The Impossible Girl
by endlessimpossibilities
Summary: A series of one-shots filled with fluffy whouffle goodness! T to be safe.
1. Silly human habit

After they'd got back to the TARDIS, she'd quietly excused herself "I'm fine," she insisted with a weak smile. "Really." The Doctor didn't really think much of it; it had been a tiring day - even more exhausting for a human who'd never been outside their home planet before. He smiled softly to himself, remembering an eager young boy feeling very similar after his first adventure. How long ago that seemed - how far he'd come, how far he'd fallen. He couldn't make the same mistakes again – not with Clara. The emotions he felt around that girl almost scared him – almost.

This Doctor had never really been one for romantics, preferring to see the universe, to explore as much as possible. Any attempts at a kiss usually resulted in him flailing his arms around like a fish out of water until the incident was finished with. Not that he was opposed to physical contact - hugging was fine. Hugging was good! He couldn't deny a good hug. Even a kiss to the hand or the forehead was nice. But involve any mouth to mouth action and he was instantly out of his depth. Not that the Doctor could ever be intimidated by such a silly human habit. Of course not.

But, unsurprisingly, everything about this girl was different. She'd truly captured his hearts – daft human expression, he thought. It wouldn't be possible to have your heart captured and still be alive – less of a loving gesture, more like brutal murder. He briefly wondered whether the saying was derived from some old (and sick) human ritual. Nevertheless, figuratively, if the heart was the thing that dealt with emotions and, metaphorically, a person could capture it, she'd well and truly got his –both of them - under lock and key.

Feeling an overwhelming urge just to be with her, to assure himself she really was alright, he left the control room, trusting his feet to lead him where he needed to go. He finally found her in the library, hunched up on the sofa with her book cradled to her chest.

'Can I?' he said, gesturing to the spot beside her.

'Feel free,' she whispered, continuing to stare straight ahead.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. Clara Oswin Oswald - the impossible girl, the woman twice dead. She simply did not realise how absolutely incredible she was, and that only added to the overwhelming curiosity and – yes, he had to admit it, attraction he felt towards her.

'That was a remarkable thing you did back there,' he finally said. 'Not many people would have had the strength to give up something so close to their heart. You really did save thousands of lives, Clara Oswald,'

The sound of her name stirred something inside Clara. 'I miss her,' she croaked, her eyes threatening to spill the tears that had built up there. 'I think about her every day – about what could've, what should've been,'

The Doctor's hearts broke at those last few words as his mind turned to all those he had lost, all those he had turned away. His arm somehow found its way to her shoulder and she curled up into his side.

'But,' he began softly, stroking her back comfortingly. 'By giving up what should have been with her, you saved what will be for a generation, and generations to come. You used an infinity of memories that could have been to give thousands of others a chance to make memories of their own.' He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face and kissed her forehead.

After a few moments of silence Clara spoke up. 'It was her, really...she did it. And she'd be so happy, y'know, to have saved all those people,'

She turned her face up to look at the Doctor and he didn't really know why he did it; she looked so lost and hopeless and desperate for reassurance, so he kissed her. The very thing he'd been dismissing mere minutes ago, and he'd gone and initiated it. Of his own accord.

Their position was very uncomfortable – his arm was twisted around her back whereas her arm was trapped between their bodies. And the Doctor felt absolutely terrified. He had to admit it to himself – he had no idea what to do. Stupid, stupid humans and their silly habits.

Their lips moved frantically against each other's, searching desperately for a rhythm, when suddenly something clicked. Clara, initially shocked by the unexpected embrace, shifted her weight to the side and lifted her hand to his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He complied by reaching his other arm around her to rest on her waist, not daring to think about the situation too much for fear he would do something terribly, terribly wrong. Instead he – what term did the humans use? Trusted his instincts. The passion began to die down and the kiss turned sweeter, more gentle. Clara's hand moved from his neck to gently caress his cheek and his thumb stroked up and down her side.

They finally broke apart, but neither felt the need to say anything. They simply grinned at each other, a sense of mutual understanding in the air. Maybe, the Doctor thought, maybe kissing wasn't such a silly human habit after all.


	2. Don't you pout at me

**Thank you so much for the reviews and favourites on my last chapter! They mean so much to me and really make me want to keep writing, especially as this is my first fic. So, thank you :)**

**This is just going to be a series of little drabbles that pop into my head...I don't think I know enough about Clara to be able to convincingly write her in a multi-chaptered story!**

**Here's a bit more of a T rated chapter for you ;)**

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He tried to convince himself that he was only drawn to the mystery of who she was and absolutely not the way that her eyes lit up when he showed her a new galaxy, or that strand of hair that wasn't quite long enough to fit behind her ear, or the way she'd fit perfectly under his chin when he hugged her. And, of course, he only hugged her to be friendly – a shared _friendly _gesture in moment of excitement or relief or just plain happiness after a particularly thrilling adventure. No, the Doctor was most definitely not falling for Clara Oswald. Most definitely not at all.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice her coming up behind him. "Hello, dreamer," she teased.

He jumped. "Oh! Clara, you-"

"Hope I wasn't interrupting any..._private _thoughts," she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"What? Private? I..no...not at all..." he stuttered. This girl would be the absolute death of him, especially since he knew she loved every second of making him flustered.

Clara winked. "Come on then, spill, what's on your mind?"

"I...nothing...GAH!" he faltered for a moment. "I'm not a dreamer!"

"Oh chinboy, don't you pout at me," teased Clara.

"I most certainly...you...I do not pout!"

"You do, and it's an absolutely _gorgeous_ one," she almost purred at him and the Doctor stumbled backwards in an attempt to clear his head. He wasn't falling for her. He wasn't. However this wasn't one of his better ideas as Clara now had him trapped between the wall and her body – the latter of which was advancing persistently on him.

"I...Clara, you're um," his voice trailed off and he couldn't think straight any more. She was very close, closer than she'd ever been and he really didn't want to admit to himself that he was liking the proximity altogether far too much.

"I'm what?" she asked innocently. He opened his mouth to attempt to form the muddled words in his head into an incredibly witty remark but she'd already yanked his head down to meet her lips and she was kissing him for all she was worth and he really, really didn't know what to do and oh god his hands! Where did he put his hands? He couldn't keep thrashing them around in the air - her shoulders? Her face? He settled for her hips which seemed to please her because she pressed her body even closer to his and he desperately tried not to give into the sharp feeling of lust coursing through his body but as the kiss slowed and she tentatively slipped her tongue into his mouth he finally gave into the feelings that begged for dominance. And the Doctor knew that he most definitely wasn't falling for her - he'd already fallen long ago.


	3. Nightmares

**I am so, so, ****_so,_**** sorry for my absence in updating! I've been ridiculously busy (no excuse, I know) but my A levels are creeping up on me and I need to get the grades! But writing does provide a nice outlet for stress so I'll try to update after each coming episode, and more often once my exams are finished.**

**This chapter is supposed to be Clara beginning to remember the alternate reality in JTTCotT. (did anyone else think that episode was absolutely INCREDIBLE. SO MUCH WHOUFFLE). Warning: contains so much fluff you could drown in it.  
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**Also, I have a tumblr which is basically just filled with Doctor Who and Whouffle, my url is _you-watchusrun _:)  
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**Please review, they make me so happy!**

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It started with the headaches. Nothing big at first, the occasional ache in her temples or a sharp jab behind her eyes. Then came the dreams – the all too vivid pictures of her running, running through endless corridors in the TARDIS from _something_, but she could never put her finger on what. Sometimes the Doctor was there, sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes she survived, her dream self finally finding the console room with the Doctor and everything seemingly righting itself. More often than not, she died – falling off a cliff into infinite white depths, not running fast enough from whatever creature she was running _from, _or burning. The burning was the worst one. She gradually heated up from the inside, her insides becoming unbearably hot before the horrific, unimaginable pain overcame her and she finally woke up, crying out for anything, anyone. But no-one came.

Of course, during the day Clara found it easier to block out the nightmares. Running along with the Doctor, exploring whatever new planet they'd discovered that day, she couldn't think too deeply about the images that plagued her every night – they were so fantastically, constantly busy that she just didn't have the time. But the headaches never relented. Sometimes they got so bad that she'd many times considered just telling him about them, nearly convincing herself that talking might help. But then she saw sense – he didn't need to suffer the burden of her pain on top of his.

He found out by accident, really. She already knew he didn't sleep as much as she did, but she hadn't ever really thought about what he did to keep himself occupied. Whatever it was, it wasn't anything they ever seemed to talk about. She'd never expected him to come rushing into her room in the middle of the night to excitedly babble on about an incredible new planet he'd never been to and they had to visit it right there and then. It wasn't really his fault that he'd walked in right at the end of the dream; one of the bad ones – a burning one, to be precise.

Clara could hear screaming – deafening screaming. She didn't really register it was her until the strong arms moved her and the screams faltered off into a quiet sob. The Doctor cradled her gently in his arms as he pulled her out of bed, the air breezing against her face as they moved quickly through the TARDIS. "Doctor..." she croaked, resting her head weakly against his chest. "I've got you, Clara," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I've got you now,". He finally set her down at the doors and rested his hand on her cheek. "I discovered this planet tonight," he said softly. "I had to show you, and no, it simply could not wait till morning,". She smiled curiously at him and followed him outside.

Clara gasped softly with utter delight. The sky was absolutely crystal clear – each star outlined with breathtaking precision and emitting unimaginable colours. And the sheer amount of them – she'd never seen so many stars and galaxies and planets so _close,_ all at one. But all that was nothing compared to what was at her feet – the ground was some sort of mirror, perfectly reflecting each and every shimmering light above her head. She really was walking in the stars.

For those few, brief seconds she'd forgotten about the reason he'd brought her out here. But she couldn't forget, not really, and she knew he'd want an explanation for it, so she forced herself to speak. "The dreams..." she began, but she was interrupted by his finger on her lips. "You don't need to tell me," he said gently. "Please, don't talk unless you're ready."

She was so thankful for that, for him not forcing her to reveal everything there and then. She didn't want to spoil the beautiful, peaceful moment, so instead she wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her into a tight embrace, gently kissing her shoulder.

The gesture was small, almost unnoticeable, but it sparked something inside Clara – feelings she hadn't felt for anyone in a long time, feelings she'd always tried to suppress in fear of the pain that inevitably would follow. But she couldn't find it in herself to suppress it, not this time. Pulling back slightly from the hug, she gazed into those eyes so filled with pain and _feeling_ and couldn't stop herself. Slowly, tentatively, she leaned in closer and ever so gently pressed her lips to his, unaware of the Doctor's flailing arms brushing her back, her shoulders, eventually coming to rest on her waist. Their lips shifted slightly, falling into a soft unhurried rhythm, his thumb caressing her side and her fingers dancing against his neck. They stayed under the stars for a long time, silent, perfectly content in each other's company until Clara rested her forehead against his. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For being there. For being you."

"I'll always be there, Clara Oswald. Whenever you need me, wherever you may be, I'll be right there by your side."


	4. Deva Loka - part 1

**I've actually got another two stories written (including the second part to this one) so you shouldn't have to wait too long for the next update. Not really sure how I feel about this chapter...but please follow favourite and review! It literally makes my day :-)**

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He couldn't really remember how on earth they'd ended up in this position – one moment they were happily picnicking on a beautiful beach on Deva Loka, the next, some Raxacoricofallapatorians – namely the exiled Slitheen family, turned up, surrounded them, and took Clara. The impossible girl – _his_ impossible girl. To be blunt, they'd ruined a pretty tasty meal, one he'd spent all night preparing with surprising delicacy considering his usual clumsy demeanour. Anyway, none of that mattered. He had to find her. And that was all he let himself think about, because he couldn't lose her. Not again.

* * *

"Deva Loka," said the Doctor with a twist of a lever. "Beautiful planet – once part of the Manussan Empire, did you know? Anyway, native planet of the Kinda race – lovely people. Very peaceful – excellent cooks,"

Clara raised an eyebrow. "And we'll really get there this time? Remember when we went to 'Vegas' and ended up – oh yeah. On a Russian nuclear submarine with a _mental Marsian soldier ready to __**kill**__ us!_"

Admittedly, he did get a bit huffy then. "Of course we'll get there! I can't believe you'd question my ability to fly _my _ship." He did give her a wink, though. Because he couldn't ever get huffy with her, not really.

"Your snog-box, you mean." But she was grinning too.

He chose to ignore her teasing comment (very mature of him, he thought) and instead dashed over to the doors and dramatically flung them open to reveal...(he did check, quickly, and thankfully they had landed on) Deva Loka. He momentarily congratulated himself on his exceptional location accuracy before grabbing Clara's hand and whisking her onto the sandy coast.

* * *

He slapped the back of his hand with the sonic, then cringed slightly. Note to self – screwdrivers hurt.

Note to self – do not get distracted.

Shaking his head he hurriedly altered the settings on the sonic, frantically pressing random buttons until he managed to set it to the _homo_ _sapien detector frequency_ (quite a useful addition, he recalled, one that got him out of a rather uncomfortable scrape on Brus). Turning in a wide circle, he pointed the sonic in front of him until-"aha!" the sonic emitted a high pitched buzzing. Of course! They'd taken her to the one place with the most cover – the rainforest. As he approached the trees the sonic began to squeal, and not a good squeal. It got worse and worse and finally completely cut off as he entered the dense, leafy labyrinth.

The rainforest, made of trees, made of...wood. "GAH!" he exclaimed, hitting himself on the head in frustration. "Stupid, STUPID! It doesn't do wood!" He adjusted the settings to a different, less complex frequency that would hopefully not be affected by the surroundings – this time producing a sound only possible to be heard by Raxacoricofallapatorians. It would hopefully be painful enough to them to at least hold them off for enough time for him to find her. If the frequency was powerful enough it could even force them to leave. He really did need to sort out the settings on the sonic, though. It was simply juvenile to have such an advanced piece of equipment and not be able to impinge on wood in any way. And frankly, he didn't want to relive a time like when he'd encountered Queen Elizabeth the 9th and locked them both in her bedroom, his sonic having been thwarted by her hairdryer – he didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed in his life.

After what seemed like hours but was probably more like minutes, he heard a distant yell – "DOCTOR! DOCTOORRRR!" The voice broke slightly. "Please, Doctor." All thoughts of hairdryers and Queens completely vanished – the only thing he could even contemplating thinking about was rescuing her.

Blindly shoving his way through the warren of vines and trunks that continuously appeared in his path, he desperately tried to locate the source of her voice, a new found hope pushing him on. She was alive – he would find her and then they could find another planet and have another adventure and probably end up in just as much danger somewhere else. But none of it mattered if they were together.

All of a sudden the trees gave way to a sort of clearing and there she was; tied to the trunk of a tree by some vines, her delicate wrists bound tightly together. The distress she felt was evident in her face but it relaxed as soon as she recognised him. He could almost see the panic leave her as she sighed in relief.

"They've gone – they left a few minutes ago. Something about their ears-"

The Doctor only briefly registered what she was saying as he rushed over to her. "Are you hurt?" He took her face into his hands, gently cutting her free from the plants that dug into her skin. "If they wounded you, I..." his voice broke off but his face darkened.

"No, no, I'm fine. They weren't planning to hurt me – they do this a lot, apparently. Take a human or two and demand ransom or sell them to a collector..." she trailed off as the Doctor tensed and his eyes turned to stone. He slowly walked to the middle of the clearing, looking up at the sky.

"DON'T YOU _DARE_ COME NEAR MY CLARA AGAIN. DON'T YOU _DARE_ MESS WITH MY FRIENDS. OR YOU. _WILL_. PAY." he screamed, shaking with rage, his voice cracking.

"Doctor," a gentle voice came from behind him. "Doctor, I'm okay, really."

He turned around and her hand immediately found its way to his cheek. Her thumb stroked softly up and down. "Thanks for coming to save me," she smiled.

"No problem," he said, almost sardonically, but he couldn't help smile back. "You're worth it - you're _always _worth it." He gave her another look over, just making sure she didn't have any injuries she was hiding from him. She did that an awful lot – hiding things. So many secrets, so many mysteries. She wasn't really one to get particularly emotional either, at least not when he was around. But she truly did look fine. Well, she looked more than fine. Pretty. He'd always thought she was positively beautiful. Not that he'd thought about it much, of course...and not that she wasn't beautiful, but he couldn't think that. He tried not to. To distract himself, he pressed his lips to her head – one sweet, chaste moment that carried a lot more _feelings_ than he'd originally intended. "You're really fine," he mumbled into her hair, vaguely acknowledging her arms wrapping around him. Relief coursed through him from those 3 simple words – he hadn't lost her. She was safe. They were together.

"I really am," she replied simply. He pulled his head back and smiled softly at her, his hands – hang on, when did his hands make their way to her shoulders? Abruptly he was overcome by the startling intimacy of it all, standing very _very_ close to Clara Oswald, so close their chests were practically pressed together – not that he wasn't enjoying it. He _was_ enjoying it...altogether_ far_ too much and his mind suddenly went blank – what should he do? What does one _do_ in this sort of situation? Kissing?! Should he _kiss_ her? Did she want him to kiss her? She was looking at him in a very strange way but that could just be shock – she _had _just been kidnapped by the Slitheen...

So he cleared his throat and spun around to face the TARDIS which was materialising in front of him, breaking the spell between them. "Right then. Back to the TARDIS. Off we go then. Where next? I know a fantastic planet where..."

He sauntered through the blue doors of his ship as a stunned and rather annoyed Clara Oswald raised her eyebrows in disbelief.


	5. Deva Loka - part 2

**I really don't like this chapter but I won't be able to do anything else until I've uploaded this so here you go**

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Clara followed him begrudgingly and plonked herself down on the steps next to the console. She didn't really know what to say – the feeling _she'd _got from their embrace five minutes ago was definitely more than friendly...but was that just her making things up? Her mum did always used to joke that her imagination was a runaway train..._that man_ she thought to herself in despair. _He really has no idea how he makes me feel, does he?_

She glanced over at him frantically adjusting the console – it was obvious he wasn't _really_ doing anything so important that it would cause him to ignore her completely (his fingers kept brushing the same pattern of colours over and over – red, orange, blue, orange, green). But did that mean he felt the same as her or was simply he trying to keep busy to avoid the awkwardness hanging in the air? Or both?

Finally she couldn't bear it any longer and hopped off the stairs to stand next to him. "Doctor?" she said tentatively. "Mmm?" he replied vaguely, trying even harder with his show of _I'm an incredibly busy man so please don't distract me_. Clara wasn't fooled. "Doctor!" she admonished, an exasperated tone creeping into her voice. He looked at her surreptitiously and she sighed. "Please, Doctor, _why _are you ignoring me? Have I done something wrong?" He finally faced to look at her then, and his eyes seemed so full of sorrow that she almost backed down. Almost.

"No, no no no of _course _not," he insisted adamantly. "What happened back there...I just couldn't bear to lose you. Not again."

She looked puzzled. "Again?"

The Doctor, realising he'd said too much, turned away from her. The room thickened with an uncomfortable silence as the Doctor fidgeted, seemingly having some sort of internal struggle. Then, so swiftly that she almost didn't notice it, he twisted round and lightly brushed her lips with hers. She was so taken aback by the encounter that she couldn't form the words to question

He didn't say anything either – simply carried on tinkering with the console as if nothing had happened.

Clara finally found her voice. "Doctor, did you just..." her voice trailed off. What should she say? What could she say? Did it even happen? "Did you, y'know..."

He looked up at her bashfully through his long eyelashes and took a deep breath – obviously trying to steady himself, but for what reason Clara had no idea. She raised her eyebrows expectantly and he gave her a small, shaky smile. "Why yes, Clara Oswald, I rather think I did,"

She smirked slightly at the bizarre idea of a man so great and so intelligent being completely thwarted by the slightest indication of romance (romance. It was funny, finally putting a label on their...friendship? Relationship?).

"Did I make a mistake? Was it wrong?" he babbled, suddenly looking incredibly anxious. This only served to amuse Clara further but he did genuinely look so upset that she couldn't bear to tease him further. "Oh shut _up_," she said, pulling him to her using the lapels of his jacket. "You did everything just right." He nervously placed his hands on her waist and looked almost apprehensive. "There's no need to look so bloody _scared_, Doctor, anyone would think I was gonna shoot you!" And she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his, gently easing his lips apart as he wriggled slightly, adjusting their position and hesitantly kissing her back. He gradually became more comfortable with the embrace and their tongues danced together, the kiss becoming more daring as they became more at ease with each other.

Breaking apart for a moment, Clara whispered "see? Just right." The Doctor positively beamed down at her and took her face in his hands, all notion of unease completely vanished. "Clara Oswald," he sighed happily. "Where have you been all my life?"


	6. Pretty like a fez

Sorry for the hiatus guys! I've kinda fallen out of touch with my writing side and found this chapter really difficult...hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things.

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**"No, you're too short and bossy and your nose is all funny,"**

That comment had been plaguing her mind for a while – she wasn't the type to dwell on her appearance, but her nose had always been the weakest link in her self confidence. Every time she saw her reflection the first thing her eyes were drawn to were her nose, then her face in general. She'd slowly pick apart her appearance – what if she wasn't _pretty _enough for him? What if he found someone better looking and simply dumped her back at home, right where she started? A million what if's overwhelmed her mind and she found herself genuinely worried at how long it was until he became tired of her.

Clara didn't mean to let her uncertainty show – but the Doctor must have seen a crack in her usual perky demeanour because one morning he appeared in the console room with a swish of his jacket and a flick of his screwdriver and promised to show her something truly incredible.

"Earth, 2345. All of nature that originally existed has been completely destroyed – _apart _from the beautiful coral reef down under. Multimillion pound project went into restoring _that _beauty to its former glory. To keep the money coming in, they offer tours. In a perfectly spherical glass sub." He flung open the doors of the TARDIS to reveal an underwater maze of rooms surrounded by glass. Clara literally gasped in delight – never before had she seen so many vibrant colours. Racing ahead of the Doctor, she followed the signs to the 'tours of the magic land!' – and hit a massive, winding, never ending queue.

Now, queuing had never been one of Clara's strong points – she liked things to be efficient and fast moving and a busy, sweaty line of people were neither of those two things.

However, her impatience was nothing compared to the Doctor's. He quite literally became a child – going on about nano vortex manipulators and the million other better things he could be doing with his time (people started giving them very disapproving looks so she placed her hand on his back to try and calm him down and unwittingly leant into him). She quickly caught herself, though, and detached herself fast, blushing slightly. He was too caught up in his manic edginess to notice a thing.

He visibly relaxed as they reached the front of the queue and finally boarded their vessel - the wait was completely worth it. As soon as they settled down and the doors sealed closed, it literally felt like it was only them in the world. The beauty of the outside world seemed like a fantastic display just for their benefit – but it wasn't, it was real. And, probably the most unbelievable thing of all - the Doctor too was wowed into silence. Clara felt a small stab of pride that her home planet could shut up even _that _madman.

"Alright," he said as they started to move smoothly out of the docking station. "Time for a small detour, I think." Glancing around them, he pointed the sonic at the small grey box in the back of the sphere. They immediately jerked off course, no longer following the trail of tour subs ahead of them.

"A detour?" she said quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

"You know how much I like the scenic route," he replied with a devilish grin.

* * *

He knew she had something on her mind – it was obvious. The way she constantly bit her lip, the way she fidgeted with her hair, twirling the strand around and around between her fingers. He didn't pressurise her, though. He knew she'd come out with it when she was ready.

He'd been prepared for some sort of dramatic revelation – a deep, dark secret perhaps. So when she finally spoke, it came as a big surprise.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Of _course_ he thought – he _knew_ - that she was pretty. He didn't even think she'd need to ask. It was just one of those things that _everyone _knew – Clara was pretty like the TARDIS was blue. Or bow ties were cool, or fezzes. She was most certainly pretty like the headless monks were most certainly headless, or Dorian was most certainly blue. Although no, not like Dorian. Not like a fat blue alien at all. She wouldn't take kindly to that at all – at least he didn't think so.

But the only thing his stupidly wired brain could formulate was "a fez, Clara. You're like a fez."

Panic began to set in as a taint of hurt clouded her eyes – he desperately tried to redeem himself- "no, no no no, that's not what I meant to say, I – well, I'm not sure..." he trailed off as she looked at him expectantly. "I, Clara..."

Giving up all attempts at forming coherent sentences he simply looked into her beautiful, somewhat confused eyes, and in a fit of manic uncertainty he leaned forwards and brushed his lips to hers.

"No, not like a fez. You're pretty, like a fez is cool. You're nothing like a fez, or Dorian," he babbled, pulling back slightly (her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline at that comment). "Or remotely like anyone at all. You are just _you_, Clara. And you are unmistakeably and absolutely perfect-"

He couldn't finish that sentence, because Clara yanked him forward by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him so fiercely he thought his hearts might actually run into overdrive and beat right out of his chest (although not really, because his exceptional Time Lord super biology would prevent any event of that bizarre nature from occurring. Not that it was even possible for the cardiac muscle to beat that powerfully. He didn't think). He drew back from the kiss slightly to pose that question to Clara, to which her only reply was "stop rambling, chin boy, and kiss me."

The Doctor always took his challenges seriously. All thoughts of fezzes and fat blue aliens completely dispersed and all he could possibly consider was the feeling of her lips moving in tandem with his. Clara's tongue brushed against his lips and the kiss deepened, one of his hands brushing through her silky hair while the other trailed down to the small of her back as he pressed her closer to her.

And he knew, of course, that Clara Oswald was nothing like the TARDIS, or a bow tie, or a fez, because she was like nothing he'd ever encountered before. She was incomparable, and she was utterly beautiful.


End file.
